Hope is a good thing!
by xxyesterdays-news101xx
Summary: Hermione is in her last year of Hogwarts, one year after the battle and an unlikely friendship blossoms into a most intense love affair.
1. Chapter 1

One year on from the battle and Hermione, Ron and Harry were once again returning to Hogwarts, this time it really was their finale year. The three had spent their summer at the burrow with the rest of the Weasley's, it hadn't been easy.

Every day was a constant reminder of Fred's death, his empty seat at the dinner table, his empty bed and the one half of him that remained behind, George. They were so happy to see September, they arrived at Hogwarts on the 3rd and were slightly surprised to see it completely restored to its' former glory. It looked like nothing had ever happened; with this in mind a small smile graced each of their lips.

It felt like they were in first year again, seeing it for the first time. The leaves were falling like confetti all around the grounds in the most glorious of colours, from deep oranges to gold and rich reds to faded burgundies. Hermione kicked the leaves as she walked, burying her hand in her pocket as they moved toward the school.

Much like how she spent her summer, she began to ponder the coming year. She was eighteen, soon to be nineteen and although she did not know it yet she was about to be reintroduce to someone. Within that person a new and rather unsuspected happiness awaited.

That evening the feast began with a speech from headmistress McGonagall, she looked tired but happy, she had probably done most of the restoration herself, Merlin knows she was the strongest witch around after Albus. Her speech was short and sweet, and the entire student body patiently awaited the announcements for new teachers. It seemed old Horace Slughorn would resume his position as potions master, but the next announcement came as a surprise, Narcissa Malfoy had taken up the position of DADA teacher.

The great hall went silent as everyone turned to watch the blonde witch walk in through the doors, McGonagall greeted her with a hug and she took her place at the teachers table. After that most people ate their dinner in silence, even those seated at the professor table ate in an awkward silence.

Hermione played around with her food; she really wasn't all that hungry. She chanced a look at the professors table, specifically Narcissa. "How dare she, who does she think she is?" Ron was seething; he was practically spitting venom "she has some nerve comin..." Hermione, still staring at the blonde witch cut him off, "You do realise that without that woman our best friend wouldn't be alive, her trust will have to be earned within the school, but he is alive thanks to her."

Narcissa sat shyly at the head table, dressed in a rich emerald green, also picking at her meal, rather than eating it. She seemed determined to look anywhere else but out at the students – until something broke her concentration and she looked up directly at Hermione, it was almost as if she felt her gaze.

Hermione wasn't sitting very far away and it was very obvious that she was staring but she couldn't look away. She stared right into Narcissa's eyes and stopped breathing for a second. Never had she seen such a heartbreaking colour, pale almost clear blue, staring right back at her. But both their concentration was broken when McGonagall announced it was time to head to the dormitory. Hermione took one last glimpse around at the older witch; to her surprise she was once again met by her piercing blue eyes but this time a soft smile graced the woman rose red lips.

The next few weeks were much like the first night, stolen glances between two women who had lost their way in the last year and were desperately searching for comfort, someone who would understand what they had been through but also someone with a fresh point of view.

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about her; her dreams were filled with images of the blonde witch. After all that is what dreams do, they taunt you with confusing vividness, of thoughts you have forbidden by day. They dig deep in your mind's closets, drawers, finding aspirations and hopes you had no idea you harboured. As the night began to grow colder, Hermione's dreams did quite the opposite; they became hotter and less inhibited.

She would wake in a hot sticky sweet, sitting bolt upright in bed and swallowing hard as she remembered her dream, the next innocent morning. She bombarded herself with a thousand questions, are you attracted to her? She tried to ask herself forcefully, as she lay in bed staring at the very white, very blank ceiling. She attempted to surprise herself into realising her sexual awakening. After all she had heard of these things happening.

One day at lunch they were all sitting down to eat and Seamus came across to join them, Hermione rolled her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't like him, he could just be a bit crude and mean sometimes. "Well, I don't care whose side she was on last, but I would like her in my bed. What would you say to that, boys?" he laughed and winked at Harry and Ron.

She could feel the jealousy welling up inside her, what an arrogant prat, how dare he talk about anybody like that. "What about you Hermione, you haven't quite been successful with the males, how about giving the females a chance, EH?" She had enough she removed herself swiftly from the table and towered over Seamus, she whipped her wand from her sleeve and aimed right at his face, "Hermione calm down it was just a joke," Ron pleaded frantically from behind her. "You idiot, I should just..." Hermione stopped as she felt a warm hand wrap around her own and pushed her wand down.

Before she could turn to see who it was, a cool, calm and elegant voice sounded from behind her, "Miss Granger, my office now, please!" She tensed under the woman's grip and when she let go Hermione turned and follow. They arrived at Narcissa's office a few minutes later, "Tea, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at her puzzled, "Ahh yyy..yes please." She could barely take her eyes off the beautiful woman let alone decide if she wanted tea, she didn't even really understand why she was here. "I am sorry for drawing my wand on another pupil professor it won't happen again, I am just not use to all this, after last year and..."

Narcissa laughed and Hermione's rant was cut short, "Oh Miss Granger do not worry, you are not in trouble, I just didn't want you doing something you would regret. I heard what that little weasel had to say and I nearly raised my wand to him myself." Hermione smiled at the older witch's honesty. Narcissa placed the tea down in front of Hermione and the two sipped cautiously at it in an awkward silence. "Oh well, I shouldn't keep you any longer, isn't this the day you all head to Hogsmeade?" Narcissa glanced down at her feet, "Yes, Professor aren't you going?"

"Miss Granger, very few people in the school want me here and even fewer want me in Hogsmeade... No I think it is best that a steer clear of somewhere like that. Now off you go you don't want to keep your friends waiting." She smiled at the young witch and move towards the door, "Professor Malfoy, you shouldn't let other people dictate how you live your life, after all you contributed in a big way to bringing down Voldemort, so don't be so hard on yourself. And whoever those people are, they need to get over themselves and realise that most of them are alive thanks to you. Why don't you join me for a drink?" Narcissa's head shot up and Hermione cringed when she realised how forward she must have seemed. "You want me to join you for a drink, what now?"

Hermione looked down at her feet and shuffled uneasily, "yes now – or some other time, it is up to you really." She looked up and smiled nervously at the older woman. "Ok sure lets go for a drink. What the hell? Come on then." She hurriedly grabbed her cloak from behind the door and ushered Hermione out of the class room.

They were both surprised into silence by their impromptu decision and conversation between them spluttered like an old engine. Narcissi followed Hermione out of the building and onto the damping path to Hogsmeade. She had no Idea where they were going; it had been so long since she had ventured down this leaf littered path. "So how are Draco and Astoria?

"They are doing quite well, the wedding is at Halloween, and I have so much to do. I have an invitation for you and some others, Draco doesn't think anyone will turn up but he understands. I am happy for him, they really are in love." Narcissa knew her son was not one of Hermione's favourite people but she was hoping she was still as compassionate as Draco had once described. "I...em...would love to come, I mean it's time to put the past behind us, right?" Narcissa smiled.

The finally reached the three broomsticks, "Here we go!" Hermione turned to face Narcissa, who stood frozen on the spot. This wasn't such a good idea anymore, "Professor, come on stop worrying!" Hermione boldly reached out and took the blonde professor by the hand, her hand fit perfectly into the other woman's and she couldn't help but notice it.

The older witch allowed herself to be pulled into the pub, it was pretty dead inside most of the students were in Zonkos or Honeydukes. "At least we won't have trouble finding a table." Hermione giggled. They sat a small table near the back, it was darker back there and Narcissa felt more comfortable, as she was somewhat hidden behind a partition. Not long after they sat down, Rosemerta approached them. "Ah Hermione, so good to see you... and Narcissa, Hello. Well, what can I get for you ladies?"

Hermione ordered a butterbeer. Narcissa was about to comment but checked herself and ordered a fire whiskey. When the Landlady had left, she leaned over the table. Her eyes glowing like fireflies in the darkened corner of the room. "A butterbeer?" she teased, "that's a child's drink!" Hermione shrugged unembarrassed, "Professor you seem to forget I may be of age but I am still at school, plus that stuff is vile." She pointed and winced as Rosemerta set Narcissa's drink done in front of her. "Ah you'll learn to like it, you'll need to." Narcissa giggled, "You'll have to teach me," Hermione dared.

"You are the same age as my son, right Hermione or have you turned nineteen already?" she took a large swig of her drink, Dutch courage never hurt anyone. "Actually I turned nineteen two days ago on the nineteenth." She took a sip of her butterbeer and Narcissa smiled, "Well Happy Birthday Hermione, Ah to be nineteen again, my teens are long gone as are my twenties and soon my thirties." Narcissa took another large gulp of the golden brown liquid. "If you don't mind me asking, what age are you professor?"

"Ancient. Thirty-nine." Thirty-nine, Hermione thought, like everything else, of course, it was perfect. It sounded wise; well travelled: sophisticated, yes the woman was twenty years her senior but Hermione couldn't have cared less. "Well, I purpose a toast." She lifted her glass, her own brown eyes alight now. "A toast," Narcissa answered, "To what?" Hermione giggled at the older woman's surprise, "To thirty-nine." Hermione clinked her glass against Narcissa's. "It is a beautiful age. In my opinion." The words captured Narcissa and softened her. Warmth moved her into a heart shaped pleasure. "Cheers," She replied, with a sudden shyness that made Hermione swoon. "To nineteen, ditto."

The two women had been talking for hours, neither of them realising the time, pupils had ventured in and out all day, most took no notice of the two. Others couldn't take their eyes off them, there was a lot of whispering and sniggering but the two woman chatted away completely oblivious to it all, so engrossed in each other. Finally Narcissa caught a glimpse of Hermione watch, "Merlins beard, when did it get so late? We should have been back half an hour ago, I was enjoying your company so much I didn't realise what time it was." Hermione stood quickly and beckoned Rosemerta over to square her up for the drinks.

Narcissa wouldn't let Hermione pay a single penny, she felt slightly humiliated. Like a child. "Oh come on...I invited you...you shouldn't." Retreated rapidly back into nervousness. "Leave it, Hermione. I've got it." Hermione fell silent. Then they began their trek back to the castle, half way back, Hermione caught Narcissa shiver out of the corner of her eye, she unravelled her scarf from her neck. "Here take this." She advanced to place the scarf around Narcissa's, "No Hermione I'm fine you'll catch you death out her." She smiled at the young witch's gesture but pushed the scarf back at her, "Professor, I spent last year sleeping in or outside a tent, I think I can handle a walk back to the school without a scarf."

Narcissa relented and allowed the scarf to be placed over her head and wrapped gently around her neck, then they walked back to the castle in silence but not an awkward one, it was comfortable, like they were old friends. They reached the castle foyer and Narcissa began to unravel the scarf, "No, keep it; I have two others in my trunk. You are going to need it when the snow hits." Narcissa pulled the scarf tighter around her neck. "Thank you Hermione, for this afternoon, you have every reason to hate me, yet here you are." This line led to an awkward smile from Hermione and with a speed that Hermione couldn't later reconstruct, a very awkward candlelit embrace goodbye.

The weeks went by and Hermione had spent countless hours in the company of Narcissa Malfoy, tea in her office after class and even in her rooms on the weekends. The two had grown quite close, much to Harry's surprise and Ron's jealousy. And he had no queries about letting her know he was pissed off. She still hadn't told them she would be attending the wedding, instead of going to the burrow for Halloween. She had merely told them she had more research and work to do and Halloween break would be the best time to do it. That didn't go down well either.

The wedding was to be on the 29th of October and they got off on the 26th for their break, the two boys had said their goodbyes and quickly jumped on the train to head home. Hermione did spend the first day doing work, along with taking a trip to Hogsmeade to find an outfit for the wedding. When she return she found a letter on her bed, obviously delivered when she was out. It read:

Dear Hermione,

I am awfully sorry but I had no idea who else to turn to. Everything is going wrong; the wedding is going to be a disaster. I need help, I tried Minerva but she is caught in meetings till Thursday. I need someone with a lot of talent in the spells department and I thought of you, if you could help it would be much appreciated. Again I am sorry, but come to the manor this evening and I will make it up to you; I'll teach you how drink fire whiskey, promise.

Kind regards,

Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione was so wrapped up in the fact that Narcissa had asked for her help, she had completely over looked where she was being asked to return to. Malfoy Manor, a place she had fought all summer long to forget.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello there, sorry it took so long to get the update up, but it is quite a long one. Plus I have been out on work placement. Oh and a note to Whispering-Lestrange I am currently working on a sixth chapter of Second Chances and hope to have it published tomorrow night. Well, hope you like, really appreciate the comments, so please continue and THANK YOU!**

* * *

Hermione had thrown together an overnight bag as quickly as possible; it was clear from the desperate tone of Narcissa's letter that she needed her help, fast. Finally she had finished packing, she looked at the list she had made early and checked to make sure that she had ticked everything off. She knew it was probably the excitement but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something.

Everything appeared to be in order, so she proceeded to lift her wand from her bedside table and place it in her coat pocket. She lift her bag and took the opportunity to look around the room one last time, she notice Narcissa's letter had fallen out of her bag and she bent down to retrieve it from the floor. She read it one last time and tucked into her pocket, then just as she was about to disapparate, she realised why it felt like she had been missing something.

"**C**_**ome to the manor this evening and I will make it up to you."**_

The Manor, she thought, Malfoy Manor a place that up until a few months ago plagued her dreams or rather her nightmares. Images of Bellatrix Lestrange towering over her filled her head and she felt as though she was going to pass out. She looked down at her arm and peeled back her sleeve, revealing the still very red scarring left behind after Bella had meticulously carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm.

She glanced up in the mirror and found the spot on her neck were she had pressed that blade down hard against her throat. Hermione had never known the Manor other than that night and the chaos and torture that had ensued during her brief stay hadn't had her itching to return. She sat down on the bed, she didn't have the heart to refuse Narcissa the help she clearly needed but she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to return to a place that held such dark memories for her. On one hand she was shaking due to the intense fear she felt about returning to Voldemort's previous residence and on the other she didn't want to let Narcissa down.

After much consideration and pacing of her room, Hermione decided that it was time she faced her fears. "Bellatrix is dead, Hermione and Lucius is in Azkaban, there is nothing to fear anymore. Other than making a fool of yourself in front of Narcissa." She told herself as she paced back and forth for about the hundredth time. "You are going to burn a hole in the floor if you continue like that." Hermione jumped and spun around to find Headmistress McGonagall standing in her door way. "Minerva, How long have you been standing there?" She blushed "Long enough...so are you going or are you not?" Minerva asked as she sat herself down on the bed.

"Oh don't know" Hermione groaned and she collapsed down beside Minerva with her head in her lap. "I just don't know if I am ready to face it yet." Minerva brushed the hair out of her face and smiled, over the summer they had become very close. Hermione had been a great help with the restoration of the school and Minerva herself. She had taken a few hits during the battle and spent a week in the hospital wing and Hermione had been at her bed side every day. She had taken very good care of her and made sure that all condolences were sent out and the funerals of all those who had been killed in the battle were attended.

"Hermione, there is no point rushing into it. If you are not ready then you are not ready. Don't push yourself." She advised as she played affectionately with Hermione's hair. "Plus you wouldn't want to cause a scene if front of Narcissa, now would we?" She smiled naughtily at Hermione, who groaned and covered her face with her hands, "Is there anything on this earth that you don't know?" Minerva laughed and pulled Hermione hands back from her face, "You really should know this by now, no there isn't."

"Aren't you going to tell me it is inappropriate to harbour feelings towards a teacher and give me a big lecture on boundaries?" She removed herself from Minerva's lap and turned to face her with a questioning look, which once again made the older witch chuckle. "Hermione dear, you are nineteen years old, I think I can over look a little crush, you are old enough to think for yourself" she noticed Hermione cringe at the word crush, "What is it dear?" At this point Hermione had once again taken up pacing back and forth across the room. "Well, if I knew what it was I probably wouldn't be pacing the floor. When I seen her in the great hall, it was the first time since the battle and...I... my heart was pounding in my chest, my knees were weak, and butterflies filled my stomach. I have never felt this way before."

Minerva approached Hermione who now stood by the window with her head resting against the frame; she wrapped her arms around the younger woman giving her a reassuring squeeze and then turned the girl round to face her. "It seems it is more than a little crush then! Forgive me Hermione but, if you don't go you might not ever know if there is something between the two of you. Besides there is nothing to be afraid of anymore, face you fears right!" Hermione wrapped her arms around Minerva and hugged her back she was right but she was still torn, "She was married...to a man for merlins sake...I mean she is not interested in women let alone me." Minerva shook her head, Hermione as smart as she was had an awful habit of doubting herself, "Hermione, trust someone who knew the Black sisters back when, and there wasn't one of them who hadn't been caught in rather awkward situations with another female from time to time."

Hermione mouth hung open, "Wow I guess you only think you know someone!" Shaking herself from the shock, she walked back across the room and lifted her bag. Minerva was right there wasn't anything for her to be afraid of. "That a girl. Now try to enjoy yourself and don't do anything I wouldn't do." Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. "You know that leaves very little that she can't do, Minerva." Both women spun round to find the owner of the voice and both smiled when they realised it was Rosemerta. "Good evening Rosemerta, How are you?"

"Never mind the how are you's, get out of here and go get your girl. Take it from someone who waited too long and nearly missed their chance. Isn't that right sweetheart?" she smiled down at Minerva and placed a small kiss on her lips, "Yes, I thought was going to die waiting on this one making her move." Both gazed loving at each other seemed the war was just the kicked up the bum Rosemerta needed and she finally told Minerva how she felt about. Hermione smiled they really were in love and it warmed her heart to see both women so happy.

"Well in that case I shall be off. Please be gracious enough to leave my room before you two decide to jump each other." Both women sat opened mouthed at the young witch's insinuation. With a pop Hermione disapparated and she arrived at the gates of Malfoy Manor, not a moment later.

* * *

The wrought iron gates stood tall like she remembered, they had been greeted at the gates that evening by Bellatrix herself. Hermione shuddered; she pressed her hand to the gate and pushed it open. It creaked loudly as Hermione opened it and as she stepped through it closed by itself making her jump. With a quick intake of breath she forced up the courage and made her way towards the front door, which she lightly tapped when she was close enough. She waited and waited for someone to answer but no one came, she figured she couldn't have knocked loud enough, with another quick breath and her chested puffed out she knocked again this time with much more force. The door then swung open to reveal a tall dark haired fellow, who reminded Hermione of Lurch from the muggle programme the Addams Family. "Good evening Miss, how may I help you this evening?" He was very polite and Hermione smiled. "I am here to see Mrs..." She was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Well if it isn't little Miss Granger, don't you have studying to be doing." She rolled her eyes as Draco came into view, she was shocked by his next move, as she stepped into the house he wrapped his arms around her in a rather awkward embrace. "It is awfully nice of you to come, you were the last person I expected but none the less I do appreciate it. My poor mother hasn't stopped in two days." With that Narcissa appeared at the top of the staircase,

"Who is it Draco, this really isn't the time for guests?" Draco smiled back at his rather flustered Mother, "Oh, I don't think you will mind this guest." He said as he stepped back from the door allowing Hermione further in to the foyer and Narcissa's line of sight. "Hermione, Thank God! It is so lovely of you to come on such short notice. I do apologise but I really do need help and he is bloody useless. Hermione smile d at the faked look of insult that had spread across Draco's face, "Come in, Come in dear, I will make us some tea. Draco be a dear and show Hermione into the drawing room."

Hermione followed Draco through into the room she assumed was the drawing room, the Manor looked so different, brighter, and warmer almost. Hermione remember the cold colours that dressed the walls and how poorly light it had been, but this time it was different, this time there was life in the old building not death. "Well, Granger have a seat." Just as she settled herself in the chair a voice sounded outside the room, it seemed Astoria was having a little crisis of her own. Draco smiled awkwardly and excused himself. Narcissa appeared a second later with the tea, "He didn't leave you all alone did, sometimes I don't know where that boys manners are!" Narcissa fussed as she poured out the tea. "Oh no, I think Astoria needed him for something and he excused himself." Narcissa smiled and took a seat opposite Hermione in an armchair.

"So, I hear you have been quite busy," Hermione joked, "Well you heard right, a few unforeseen obstacles have reared their ugly heads." Both woman laughed nervously as they sipped their tea, "Well, what is it and maybe I can help." Hermione was dying to know why the woman had needed her so much. "Well, there are about 100 guests arriving here tomorrow and this place is a mess, the caterers have pulled out at the last minute and Astoria's dress does not fit." The blonde witch sighed as she placed her head in her hands. "Right well, tidying and decorating not a big problem, as for catering a know someone who owes me a favour and quite frankly would be glad of the work. As for the dress, did they make a mistake in the measuring?"

"Not quite, it was a perfect fit two weeks ago when I brought it home. However there was something my son and daughter-in-law had failed to tell me...Astoria is pregnant." Hermione was shocked, "Although she is not far along, she has gained a little weight and now the dress does not fit." Hermione didn't quite know whether this was the appropriate time to congratulate someone or just keep her mouth shut. "Not that I am not happy for them, I am over the moon but I don't know what to do about the dress."

"Well, how about you show me the dress and I will see what I can do." Narcisaa couldn't help but smile at young woman's enthusiasm. "Ok, follow me." She got up from the seat and followed Narcissa out in to the corridor, a corridor she found eerily familiar, and she was heading for a room that gave her a horrid sense of déjà vu. Narcissa pushed the door open and the room became visible and it was in fact the room in which she had been tortured by Bellatrix. Hermione's heart sank as she entered the room and everything came rushing back to her. She saw the spot where Bellatrix had pinned her to the floor and carved that awful word into her arm.

She was so spaced out she hadn't even noticed Narcissa talking to her, "Hermione, are you alright...Hermione can you hear me?" Narcissa followed the girls gaze around the room to find what she was staring so intently at. Hermione's stare was directed at the floor by the rug. Narcissa was terribly worried about the younger woman but couldn't understand what had happened, and then she watched as the young woman's eyes rolled in her head she began to fall backwards. Narcissa quickly caught her before she could hit the ground, she gently lower herself to ground and guided Hermione down allowing her body to lean against her own. She yelled for Draco and gently shook Hermione, before Draco even heard his mother Hermione began to come round, but she didn't do it gently.

As she came around she flung her arms out to fight off whatever had hold of her, forgetting where she was and when, she lashed out screaming, "Let me go you monster, let me go...I was never in your vault Bellatrix, I swear," Narcissa dodged Hermione's flying fists as much as possible but she froze upon hearing her sister name and she herself was transported back to that night. "Just let me go." Narcissa eyes filled with tears as she remember what her sister had done to the poor girl and she failed to notice Hermione's fist come flying at her face. It hit her square in the jaw and knocked her backwards breaking her grip of the young witch.

Ignoring the fact that she had just been struck she leaped forward and grabbed Hermione once more, "Hermione, calm down, it is ok you are alright there is no here to hurt you...Hermione, Hermione please look at me." The woman stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face the older witch, she realised what she had done and tears burned her eyes, "Narcissa, I am so sorry...I just...Oh my god, did I do that?" She reached up and gently grazed her hand across the now blackening spot on Narcissa jaw. "Hermione, never worry about that, I am sorry. I should have never asked you to come here, after everything you went through the last time. For which I am most deeply sorry to, my sister was a monster. Are you alright?"

"Oh, it was my own fault, I knew it was still too soon to face something like this but I didn't want to hurt your feeling or let you down. Now I have hurt you physically and made a fool of myself." Narcissa leaned forward and wiped the tears from Hermione's eyes, "Nothing a little concealment charm won't fix," she took out her wand and gave it a quick flick, "see , can't even tell it is there" At that point Draco flew into the room, "Is everything ok in here? I heard yelling" He looked down at the ground to find his mother on the floor with her arms wrapped around Hermione, and both women looked to be on the brink of tears. "So sorry Draco I..." Narcissa cut her off, "Hermione here fainted on me, hasn't eaten a bite all day, and nearly gave me a heart attack. We are fine now, nothing to worry about."

The young man shrugged and left the room with a rather large smile on his face; Hermione looked up at Narcissa and whispered a quick 'thank you.' Narcissa nodded her head in acknowledgement. She got to her feet and offered Hermione a hand up, "Maybe I should take you back to the castle, this was perhaps a bad idea." Hermione took the older woman's hand and Narcissa pulled her to her feet with surprising ease. "No, I mean unless you don't want me here, I said I would help, and I truly do want, just maybe not in this room."

"Of course I want you here Hermione, how about we take the dress down to the drawing room instead and we can have some more tea." Hermione smiled, "I would like that very much."

* * *

A few hours later Hermione had mended the dress with a quick and easy alteration spell. And even though the wedding was only a day away she made sure the dress would grow with Astoria. Then she moved on to finding a caterer, it didn't take long, she had a friend in the business and as she had said previously said they were happy of the work. Hermione had ordered Narcissa to go to bed and rest for a few hours, the woman had been hesitant at leaving Hermione on her own, she knew she needed it.

When she returned, the she found Hermione putting the final touches of decoration in the dining room. She gazed around the room at all the beautiful decorations, then her green eyes meet a smiling pair of deep chestnut. "Well, what do you think?" Hermione asked, "Oh Hermione it is wonderful, but did you do this all yourself?" Hermione laughed, "No, Astoria and Draco helped to," Narcissa was relieved they hadn't left the poor girl to do everything herself, "Thank merlin, it was crazy for me to think you had done this all yourself in just one hour."

Hermione looked at her rather confused, "An Hour, it is three in the morning, Narcissa. You have been asleep for nearly five hours, haven't you looked at the time. I told Draco and Astoria to go to bed about an hour ago." Narcissa was in shock, it certainly hadn't felt like she had been asleep for five hours but when she looked at her watch; sure enough it was three O'clock. "Oh for Merlin's sake, why didn't one of you wake me?" Hermione giggle, "Well Draco warned us it was like waking a bear, so both Astoria and I thought it best just to let you sleep."

Narcissa nudged her playfully, "Well now I am wide awake but you need to get some rest, I will show you to the guest room." As Narcissa turned to lead her out of the room Hermione spoke up, "You know, I am really not that tired. How about that fire whiskey?" Narcissa turned around and smiled at the younger witch, "Well only if you think you can handle it." Narcissa lead her back into the drawing room and opened up a cupboard under the bookcase, revealing a rather wealthy supply of the caramelised brown liquid. She excused herself from the room and went to find a glass for them both. She re-entered the room to find Hermione sitting by the window gazing out at the stars.

From there they moved to a more comfortable seat, where they sat side by side on the sofa, sipping on the appropriately named golden drink, Narcissa couldn't help but giggle each time Hermione took a sip and cringed. They talked to each other in fond voices, a scattered conversation of new beginnings and new friends; while the air around them wondered if they would soon be more. Thoughts of the wedding had been banished to the back of each of their minds.

There on the sofa, their hands met, Hermione's right to Narcissa's left; the bodies' first admission that they wanted each other. It wasn't really planned or spoken, it was Hermione seeing those finely shaped, shy fingers and that strange way hands come to life, almost animal, separately expressive from the rest of itself. It really isn't a surprise that hands create the character of the puppeteer or that in the movies they have imagined them moving independently, spiderlike, across a room. Hermione noticed Narcissa greet her hand with her own, stroking it, covering it and finally holding it in a half clasp. It was a declaration. **_I am here. We have touched._**

Narcissa was quiet, her gaze never meeting Hermione's, but her hand held hers, too, returned the embrace with its own strength, so she knew that the blonde witch was with her, though she was sheltering in some wordless privacy. Hermione allowed the silence to continue for as long as possible, until her nerves got the best of her, her nervous heart was stretched taut, too taut to breathe. "Narcissa?" she finally forced out. The question was everything. It was in fact, the only question. To Hermione's surprise, when Narcissa looked up to answer it, her eyes seemed darker. With lust, and with something else, too - like grief. Or doubt. She didn't say anything, but she nodded. That was all Hermione needed.

It was her thumb she moved across Narcissa's mouth then. Slowly. Following the curve of her lips up to their sweet peak, and back down the gentle slope of the other side. Hermione felt like she knew this mouth already, she had lived with its shapes and sounds in her imagination, but she had not felt it yet. Her blunt thumb made its first intimate acquaintance. "You have the most beautiful mouth." Hermione whispered to Narcissa. And then she did what she had been waiting to do her entire life. She kissed her.

They kissed in the drawing room first, because that is where they'd come modestly to enjoy a late night, early morning drink. It was the night they tasted. And each other. Starting slow, and slowly faster, their mouths met; first polite and refined, then affectionate, curious; and finally, as their tongues wandered and hungered, their mouths became wide and their desires wider, and they began to find each other with a an urgency that summoned to mind the word 'devouring.' Hands moved through hair chestnut and fair, and gradually their bodies drew closer, a pillow was moved, a body shifted. Yet still there was a kind of demureness, almost, a riding side-saddle, and their legs adjacent, until finally Hermione stood up from where she sat and straddled Narcissa, leaning into her, gripping her with her thighs and feeling through their two pairs of trousers, the heat and the wetness.

They kissed like that through clothes and shudderings, in a light adequate enough to capture the startled lust on each other's faces, to watch each other grow more mussed and wild and finally to see, that they were going to have to go somewhere else, away from the drawing room, where their skins could touch.

The next morning it was a lake-blue- sky that filtered through the window, filled only with the low sound of lovebirds. Sweet husky calls, a cooing almost, a pleasure chuckle, some creatures' shared mutual delight. And it wasn't their sounds now. (It might have been earlier; it would be again, later.) Hermione smiled as she felt an arm snaked around her waist and pull her close, she could think of how the night could have been more perfect. She turned around in the other woman's embraced and she was met by emerald green eyes and a soft nervous smile. Without thinking she stretched forward and placed a small lingering kiss on the woman's lips and smiled as she heard her moans into it. Neither one noticed a figure watching in the door way in shock.

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**WELL...**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Apologies for the delay in this next chapter! I have not been very well recently but here it is anyway. I do hope you like, and all comments are welcomed and greatly appreciated.**_

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Hermione pulled back from the kiss and all of a sudden felt and overwhelming shyness - a panic almost, there she was here, with this woman she barely knew, a woman whose delicious body she had explored, certainly and thrillingly in the dark, but who she hardly knew. She was here half-naked with a practical stranger, Hermione was, with this woman, with a woman. They had spent the night in and out of each other grasps and embraces, Waves would crest and break and crest again. Urgencies yielded to the slower breaths of satisfaction, as sticky hands stroked or petted, after the: "There, there," and "how was that?" of the relishing lover.

After half an hour of gazing into each others eyes, Hermione announced, "I have to eat something soon or I may faint." "I know, we should probably show our faces downstairs soon anyway." Reluctantly they rediscovered the art of dressing themselves and, more entertainingly, each other: slow blue-jeaned zips up to a fastening waist button, the neat fondle of cardigan buttons. They found their way down the stairs, which seemed a loud and lopsided place now, but fortunately it contained breakfast. They made their way to the kitchen and Narcissa fixed them some breakfast. "Narcissa Malfoy cooking breakfast, I supposed stranger things have happened." Hermione joked as she slid up behind the blonde woman standing at the cooker. They watched each other eat with belated bashfulness, finding the act an echo of what they'd just been up to.

Their gaze was quickly broken as Draco burst into the kitchen with urgency, "It is noon mother and the wedding starts in three hours, your not even ready," his voice was shaky and full of panic, "Draco calm down the house is ready, the food is ready, everything is ready. So we have two hours to leisurely get ready until the guests start arriving, now please for merlin sake breathe!" She smiled as she glanced at Hermione again. "You two have a good night then, " Draco smirked, he unbeknownst to them was well aware of their attraction to each other.

"I would say they had a jolly old time considering the position I found them in this morning!" A voice sounded from the kitchen door, each of them recognised it and spun round to face it's owner. "What are you doing here?" Narcissa demanded angrily, as she raised her wand. "Now now dear, is that anyway to treat your husband after all this time, especially after he has caught you in the marital bed with that little slut." Lucius Malfoy stood a shadow of his former self, clearly Azkaban had not been kind to him. "I knew there was no chance a whore like you would say faithful. Narcissa but with one of the three responsible for putting me in that place, you have sunk even lower than I thought possible." The anger seeped from his very pores and he looked at Hermione with pure venom in his stare. "How is this possible? You can't be here!" Draco's eyes filled with tears and fear, "Please Dad, not on my wedding day."

"Oh for Merlin Sake, Boy I have no intentions of even attending the wedding. However, once it is over I want you gone." He approached Narcissa as he spoke, "And as for you," He forced out through gritted teeth, as he did he grabbed her arm to make sure she looked him right in the eyes, "Once the Wedding is over, you better pack your bags and leave, no blood traitor will live in my house." "Let go of me Lucius, you are hurting me." he pulled her towards him and tightened his grip, "Good, a taste of your own medicine." Hermione sprang up from her chair with her wand raised, "Let go of her now, I have cursed you before don't think I won't do it again." Draco had also raised his wand and lucius let out a manic laugh as he turned on his heel to leave, glancing back at Hermione, "I wouldn't be so hasty with that wand Mudblood, I learnt things in Azkaban that would make your toes curl. And I wouldn't be apposed to showing you them."

After that they quickly got ready in silence, not one of them knew what to say so none of them spoke. They guests arrived promptly at three and the Wedding went off without a hitch. It was a beautiful service and Draco looked so happy, however Narcissa's smile was forced, she couldn't fight the feeling Lucius was up to something. Luckily nothing happened to spoil the wedding. There was to be no evening party as the newly weds wanted to jump start their honeymoon while it was still safe for Astoria to apparate. After the Wedding Hermione found Narcissa sitting on the bed in the master bedroom staring blankly at the floor, "Narcissa.." Hermione whispered as she approached the woman, "Are you ok?" she kicked herself after the words let her mouth, of course she wasn't ok. "I have no were to go, I will have to make arrangement with Rosmerta at the three broomsticks. I just…..what am I going to do?"

"You don't have to stay at the three broomsticks Narcissa, I have an apartment in London and I would like you to stay with me," Hermione placed a hand under Narcissa's chin, "And I won't take no for an answer." Narcissa smiled a real smile for the first time that day, "Well I guess I have no choice then." They then gather Narcissa belonging and shrunk them so they would fit in their pocket. Hermione's hand found Narcissa's and they quickly apparated to Hermione's apartment. That night they went to sleep wrapped in each others arms, drowning out the rest of the world.

The next few days were strange it was new, they had worries that it was all moving to fast but a simply kiss banished those thoughts from their heads. By the end of the week if doubt had smouldered in Narcissa at first, the bond they shared extinguished it. So Hermione had to assume, she could usual recognised the tremble of hesitation in people, as she had in Narcissa that first night. (Her shudder in the drawing room.)s they love wore on and they wore themselves into it, however, it become clear that any hanging back on Narcissa's part was over.

One evening they lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Hermione felt free to talk. This was something else Narcissa had unlocked in her; her unsuspected wish and ability to speak about things she would never discuss with the boys. "I never knew this before, I never knew this was possible before." On this she pressed the nearest patch of Narcissa that was to her hand, her warm thigh. "Did the boys leave you cold?" Narcissa quizzed, "No not cold , exactly. Lukewarm, maybe. I liked boys. I just never thought ….." Hermione's sentence wander off unfinished. "How about you? I mean obviously there is Lucius," Hermione turned to face Narcissa. "Boys. I have had a few." Hermione heard a laugh that came from somewhere else, another city. Another story. "Then again, too few to mention."

"That's not true, you have more than a few." Narcissa pulled away at that. "Why would you say that? How do you know?" Hermione laughed, "I can just tell." Narcissa did not even bother to argue it. When Hermione spoke in that tone, occasionally, you could hear the adult in her, the one who was sure of herself. There was no room for contradiction. "But you don't care to mention it." The ceiling watched the naked women impassively. "Well." Finally, in a deliberately causal tone. "I am sure you have had few to, even if they did leave you lukewarm." Narcissa smiled at Hermione. "No, I told you, you were my first." she placed a kiss on Narcissa shoulder. "Your first of this gender , I thought you meant," Narcissa seemed rather shocked, "Nope my first of any gender ."

"Oh god," Narcissa gave a small, alarmed laugh, "that's such a responsibility. I had no idea." Hermione looked sternly at Narcissa, "It certainly is," she demanded an embrace from her deflowerer and got one. "I hope you take it seriously." Narcissa cleared her throat, "From no on." she laughed, "I most certainly will." Another wild discover Hermione made in the course of the week was, people shower together. That was what went on. Who knew? Hermione for one, had never foreseen such a thing, she had clearly spent too much time with her head in the books.

The shower was such a personal space, not somehow unlike the womb, or the confessional. A not imagined for two people to share. First, because it was a part of that shrine to hygiene, the bathroom, the room were all you unmentionable questions could be asked and sometime in good light answered. Hermione still hated the thought of the girls bathrooms at Hogwarts and the riotous lack of privacy. Performing your ablations together with other people, chatting over the toothbrushes, sharing conditioner across the shower divide. Where even the body-shy had to shed their inhibitions and learn to wash themselves freely in the bright glare of the public. But showering with. Showering with a lover. What a strange sensation, another of the seemingly unending dimensions of romantic life. Hermione had not yet encountered, even in her hand-working fantasy. Soaping up her lovers body: developing the same fond ease with it as you have with your own, with the only difference being that you love that other body with out reservation but are bound to have complaints about the one you were born in. Rubbing the bar of soap under her arms, then over them, across her sleek boned back and shoulders, working up a slippery lather with you active hands. Taking turns for fairness, under the hot centre of the water stream. Shampooing her hair, massaging the gel into that firm head with your warm fingers. Rinse and Repeat. Hermione loved it. Luxuriated in it. Was baptized, by the sheer splashing soap and water of it.

And then there was sleep. It was not something that Hermione had ever spent time imagining that privatest part of a night spent with someone else. The soft tangle of another body to accompany you as you made your bold and dogged way through your dreams. Hermione had gotten used to the idea of another person, Narcissa had seen her naked, continued to see her bare and know her, breasts and knees and back and all. The same way she knew Narcissa, she loved her breasts. It had nothing to do with being a mother or a baby, though it did have everything to do with the thrill of drawing out that hollow call from Narcissa. When Hermione lay along Narcissa's lower torso, enjoying her breasts, her hand cupping those beautiful bare shoulders, she had first wanted as she sat across from her in the Three Broomsticks, she could feel, with every pull of her tongue the moan move through Narcissa's body, travelling up slowly on sheer current of pleasure, till it crept up her throat and escaped her helpless lips. Hermione would do anything to provoke that moan. It became her favourite sound in the world. She sometimes felt it was so strong and sinewy that she could have climbed up it, as if it were a rope that could bare her weight. Sometimes as she sucked on Narcissa's breast, till her tongue was all but numb and Narcissa's nipple somehow changed flavour, Hermione could not describe the change, but she could taste it, she felt she was climbing up that pleasure call of Narcissa's, even as she slid back up her body, planting kisses along her breastbone and soft neck; by her ear; on her cheek; and, hushed conclusion, on her lips, now that they'd stopped groaning and had settled back from gasping into something calmer. Like the hum of a dreamer.

Sleep. A new intimacy altogether and one Hermione could often not believe she had shared. It was a secret, wasn't it? Sleeping? What a person looked like when they couldn't help it; what they defencelessly might suggest; what revelation might be conveyed by that loosened floppy shape, in the unintended words or murmurs of the dreamer? Hermione did feel, in her gut, that any discoveries one person made about the other while she slept were unfair. It was like cheating on a test. Hermione thought that who you were out and off the record was nobodies business but your own. She could never believe people allow themselves to sleep in public in class or in the library and not just because she feared she'd miss something. But those sprawled, flattened figures scattered everywhere like battle corpses, collapsed in damp and possibly drooling heaps across their books. Exposed!

To sleep with Narcissa was, for Hermione, an ultimate trust. It was the handing over, the giving in. It was more than the key to the realm, it was the realm, the realm of her deepest self, and if Hermione was willing to let Narcissa go there, she must be willing to go anywhere with her. Their first night together Hermione had made sure she stayed up past Narcissa, till she heard her lover's breathing slow and thicken, and she willed herself to wake up earlier. That was how she stayed safe. But the fewer hours rest made her tired and one morning she woke to find Narcissa watching her. Watching her whilst she had slept. Hermione had sat up startled, What; What are you looking at?" she questioned, "You. Sleeping!"

"Why" Hermione started to panic. "Why, What/ the….?" before she felt the love wash over her like a wave. "Hush." Narcissa kissed her. "You are beautiful, when you sleep," she said, "Beautiful." And Hermione believed her and her worries faded. Until this particular night as she lay awake, contemplating their return to Hogwarts, return to separate rooms, fleeting glances and nearly touches. And her heart ached a little to away from Narcissa for too long scared but how could she tell her that?

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_**WELL...REVIEW? Yes, No, Maybe! lol**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Apologies for the the rather ridiculous gap between chapter 3 and 4 folk I think it has been over a year. Good GOD! I have been in and out of hospital a lot in the last year and kind of forgot about this. But I hope this chapter makes up for my absence! Please enjoy, I hope you do!**

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A few more days into all this love and Hermione's muscles were sorely stretched, her body shocked and soaking but somehow impossibly wanting more. The Halloween holidays were coming to an end and Hermione knew she would have to visit the Weasleys, so she did. Promising Narcissa she would be no sooner gone till she was back. When she arrived everyone had wide smiles and lung crushing hugs. For once actually she felt underdressed for the Weasley's, it seemed George and Angelica had announced their engagement. She was there in what she was sure her mother would charitably call 'slacks' even Mr Weasley looked aristocratic in his own lob-sided way. The women were all in skirts and dresses. This made Hermione nervous, she began to over think things, like she was immediately visible as a woman being sexually awakened by another woman – that nasal misfit; a lesbian- but if the word was printed on her forehead, everyone was too polite to mention it.

By nine, stuffed and a little suffocated, Hermione felt she could decently leave. They asked her to stay, of course so she had to say, "Oh, I'd love to, thank you but I'd better get back, promised I would give McGonagall a hand with some things before everyone comes back." They tried a few more murmuring protests but Hermione stood her ground. Molly followed her outside to say goodbye before she apparated. "Rushing back, eh? At this hour?" Hermione cringed she never really could lie to or hide things from Molly, but she tried her best. "Good luck, Hermione, see you soon dear. I hope he is a nice fellow. He's lucky to have you." Hermione smiled to herself as Molly became a blur, only she knew he wasn't a he at all. When she arrived back at the apartment she found Narcissa curled up on the sofa, a book resting in her hands and her reading glasses slightly askew on her face. She laughed quietly she loved coming home and finding images such as this. She lifted the book off Narcissa's chest with a quick glance at the title 'Catcher in the rye,' it had always been a favourite of hers. She noticed Narcissa stirred and crouched beside her on the floor.

"Your back...What time is it?" Hermione bent down and placed a soft kiss on the other woman's lips, "it is just after nine, sleepy head." Narcissa smiled and pulled her back down for another embrace this one much more lasting but it was interrupted when Narcissa yawned. "Sorry babe, guess I am kinda tired, these last few days as fun as they have been, have really taken it out of me." Hermione laughed, "Really, I would never have noticed."She held her arms out for Narcissa and led her to the bedroom. Tonight it seems they would just sleep, Hermione lay on her back staring up at the ceiling, Narcissa was fast asleep with her arm draped across her stomach. This is the time when Hermione should sleep but her brain seemed to think it was the best time to mull things over. Like when it was ok to use terms of endearment. When does 'honey' start, or 'sugar' or 'babe,' or whichever lower-case terms seems right to capture the spontaneity of fondness? All those times when a given name seems too formal, too serious or even harsh, and you want something friendlier as a salute or calling. In their earlier days it was only 'you' between them. It was all they needed but by this point Hermione had realised she had become Narcissa's babe. "Come on babe, let's go," "Hey babe do you want some coffee?"Hermione liked babe, it wasn't too frilly or delicate – it sounded tough, like they were in this together. _It's you and me babe, I got you babe. _It made Hermione feel like a rock chick, as she told Narcissa later.

After which she had to, on demand play a minute and a half of air guitar and toss her curly mane of hair around, as any self-respecting rock chick would. Much to Narcissa enjoyment, she threw her head back laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. Even more so when Hermione chased her for making fun of her and held her down so she could tickle her. But what could she call Narcissa? Hermione was positive she could not pull off 'babe'; it wouldn't have sounded authentic, coming from her. She didn't have the jacket for it, or the attitude. Her voice was too faint. (She never really had liked her own voice.) _Honey_ had only brought on thoughts of her own mother, a constant honeyer, which was not a good idea and _darling_ wasn't even in the running. Which left sweetheart? _Sweetheart_. It seemed to fit. It was a classic, after all and yes, sweet, without being cloying, she would try it out to see how it sounded.

They were on the train together heading back to Hogwarts a few days later, Narcissa was reading. Hermione had been looking out the window, not seeing the beautiful landscape, blinded as she was by the overwhelming fact of how much had happened, how completely the world had changed since she had last ridden this train, she turned and in an unrehearsed voice said. "Sweetheart?" she cleared her throat, "could you pass me the newspaper?" "Sure." Narcissa barely looked up from the page to find the paper and hand it over. "Thanks," Hermione said casually so that only she knew of the thrilling step she had just taken. Hermione had never before had a sweetheart. And now she did.

They had to be careful not to seem too intimate; they were on the train with the other students of course. They could have just apparated but Narcissa had expressed how much she loved the view as the train flew through England's obscure countryside. Providing they weren't caught by Ron, Harry or any of the others under the illusion they were already at Hogwarts they would be fine. They would apparate out before the train pulled into the station at Hogwarts. This is exactly what happened. The boys were none the wiser for now. But Hermione sometimes found herself positive, she was going to get caught, watching Narcissa the way that she did. Narcissa had become flawless from this sublime distance. The more Hermione saw of Narcissa, the more she loved her. Her humanness became real. Hermione understood that Narcissa was brittle-tempered, that she was not always truthful; she still harboured schools of fears under her seemingly fearless surface. But these qualities made Hermione want more than ever to protect her and adore her – calm her temper against students who refused to see past who she used to be, hold her quietly through the stories she did or didn't choose to tell about herself, and especially to life-raft Narcissa through when the fear gathered round her, threatening to attack. No matter how much she protested Hermione knew that Narcissa lived in fear of what Lucius could do and inevitably will do.

Meanwhile, as afternoons were given over to taking in her lover's look and movements, she became more fascinated by every curve and crevice, every gesture and hesitation. She knew Narcissa's face when it had a pale, sleepy sheen and when hair was slightly scattered and unkempt she had been up most of the night grading tests. There was wildness to her beauty. On a couple of occasions she had snuck out late and spent the night with Narcissa. On those nights Hermione would kiss her clothed shoulder, remembering the taste of the skin beneath those layers of wool and cotton. She could kiss her everywhere in these moment and did. Her mouth roamed over Narcissa's body as freely as her hands and eyes and words. Her mouth knew her lovers body's secret distinctions: it's caches of salt, it's various textures (the way her earlobe was a soft as dough, the hot fold at the top of her thighs), it's hypnotic smoothness along her back, her cheeks, her stomach. But Narcissa mouth was still Hermione's favourite place, her home away from home. Her own went there always, before and after, returning contentedly to the perfectness of a kiss. Once there she could stay for days. And Hermione too was discovered. Narcissa explored her, she brought to life parts of Hermione she had never conceived of and couldn't have begun to name. Once, Narcissa had found a spot within Hermione that seemed to be the single concentration of her excitement. It was the place of pleasure, purely and when it was touched, Hermione just flooded with delight. Literally as if Narcissa had turned on a tap. Hermione would have been so embarrassed, if she hadn't been so high on the sensation of it.

She learned for the first time that she was beautiful, a notion that had never occurred to her before. In Narcissa's resonant voice she had heard herself described as graceful, lean, curved, and lovely and came to believe the words a little. She was learning what it felt like from the inside, this great life secret. She was finding herself capable of sound and furies she would never had dreamed of – not in Hermione the self she had known. Was it like this for everyone? The transformation and the contrast? Hermione was still a quiet person: that's how she seemed even to herself. Narcissa would sometimes look at her hair-swept, sweat-tossed lover and say, her own cheeks hot with surprise, "My god! There something in you, Hermione. There is something, it is so wild – where does it come from?" Then, to counter the hint of alarm in her voice, she added "It's wonderful."

The boys were completely oblivious to the whole thing; they were completely oblivious to everything that wasn't quidditch and boobs, quite frankly. But Hermione excused them, this was their year to be normal, regular boys that weren't being chased by a Dark Wizard and whose lives were not in danger. Plus she was quite obsessed with someone breasts herself. Minerva was brilliant about the whole thing, she was well aware of the fact Hermione was of age but she had reached the conclusion that if they were found out before the end of the year she would simply, DENY DENY DENY. That seemed fair to both women. As for work, they had both tried to stay focused but when in each other's company; alone it was truly quite hard to concentrate. Together, in Narcissa room, which was so close to her bedroom and not altogether separate from her kitchen, they tried very hard to work. Narcissa lay on her side on the sofa, within the clutch of the lamp light above her head, reading through sloppy homework questions, head cradled in her eloquent hand. That hand: it was hard for Hermione to look at it sometimes without remembering its other talents.

"I can't concentrate," she said. She was sitting against a wall in the corner near two heaps of books. "Try," Narcissa didn't even look up. A book spread across her, her head dipped misleadingly down. Hermione sneakily stared over at Narcissa on the sofa. Those smart eyes covering yards of words, translating all those ridiculous answers. The way Narcissa read was like the way she walked down a street, sure of her carriage and her direction, while staying open to new colours and languages round her. "You know I could spend my night, watching you read." Narcissa pursed her lips. "That would be tiresome." Hermione gave a soft chuckle, "for you maybe. Not for me. For me, it would be heaven." This made Narcissa's eyes flutter away from the page reluctantly. Hermione got quietly up from where she was sitting and tiptoed over to where Narcissa was sitting, she was so engrossed she didn't even noticed the brunettes approach. She pounced of the unsuspecting blonde, who squealed in fright, until laughter took over as Hermione tickled her. She tried so hard to be serious, "Hermione we... have work to...do." she said in-between fighting the urge to laugh. However she soon realised her efforts were futile, and she began to fight back. They tickled each over so rambunctiously that they landed on the floor in a heap.

Hermione took this opportunity to wrap her arms her arms all around Narcissa as she lay in the foetal position on the floor trying to catch her breath. "I wished I never had to let go, just have you here contained in my arms." Narcissa pulled away slightly. "Contain me? Is that what you want to do?" Hermione heard the warning but decided not to let that stop her. "Yes." She exclaimed. "You, here in my arms forever sounds just perfect. We were given: two hands to hold, two legs to walk, two eyes to see and two ears to listen. But why were we only given one heart? The other was given to someone else for us to find. And I hope I have found mine. I love you." She looked into Narcissa eyes and for once she didn't find assurance she found fear, the silence now in the room was killing her, she had told Narcissa of her love for her and yet Narcissa stayed silent. Hermione quickly pulled away and try to take swiftly to her feet, she was preparing to run, tear were beginning to well up in her eyes. What had she just done? It had only been a matter of weeks, she was so stupid sometimes. She turned to head for the door and a hand clasped itself around her wrist. "Narcissa, I am sorry, I'm sorry..." Narcissa spun her round placed her finger tips to her mouth in an effort to silence her. "But Narcissa..." She was silenced again this time with a kiss, soft subtle but convincing. "Did you mean it?" Narcissa whispered and for the first time Hermione noticed the tears streaming down the blondes face. Without even thinking she ran her thumb over Narcissa cheek brushing off the teary residue. "Every word and I am sorry." She hung her head, expecting Narcissa to tell her she was being a silly naive girl, that this was nothing to her but a bit of fun. "No one, not one single person has ever made me feel my whole life the way you did just now." Hermione didn't know if that was good or bad, "And how would that be," she asked quietly. "Loved, and not in a motherly way. In the way that stops your heart when someone tells you, because with every fibre of you being you feel the same way." "Does that mean..." Narcissa lifted Hermione chin so she was looking directly into those beautiful brown orbs, "Yes Hermione, I love you too."

Narcissa loved her, she really loved her. When Hermione finally came crashing down to earth, without hesitating she reached up, curled her fingers into Narcissa's hair and pulled the older woman to her, their lips crashing together. They both moaned at the contact, Narcissa's fingers found their way into and got lost in Hermione's curly hair and they held each other close. Bodies melted together, mouths hungry and lips parted, and then tongues explored, gently at first; this causing fireworks in Hermione's head. Narcissa was so deliciously soft and full of warmth. The hands in Hermione's hair stroked down her neck, over her shoulders and came to rest on around her waist, grabbing tightly. It was almost as Narcissa was scared to let go. Narcissa gently pushed back against Hermione until they collided with the back of the sofa. Then without warning Hermione pushed Narcissa up against the desk and swiftly helped her into a seated position on top of it. Narcissa's knees still obstructed the contact both women so urgently needed and Narcissa didn't hesitate to open her legs, Hermione slid her palm round and pressed it flat against Narcissa's lower back, guiding their hips together. It didn't take long for clothing to disappear off their bodies and it ended up in various places around the room, flung with gay abandon. Narcissa wrapped her legs around Hermione's back, locking her ankles together and pressing her closer still. The contact made both women gasped and they became aware that it was merely flimsy lingerie separating their bodies completely.

Their gazes locked, Narcissa's eyes were dark and lustful. This time, it was Narcissa who grabbed Hermione by the back of her neck and tugged firmly to reconnect their lips. She pressed closer and rolled her hips into Hermione, who moaned loudly at the contact. Narcissa's scent, her flavour was driving her insane; Narcissa tightened her legs and pulled herself against Hermione so hard this time, it had almost hurt. Hermione pulled Narcissa to her feet and lead her into the bedroom, Narcissa sat on the edge of the bed and Hermione kissed her way over Narcissa's face and neck, and then straddled her hips. She undid the clasp on Narcissa's bra and exposed her nipples. Hermione then gently nibbled and nipped at one causing Narcissa to moaned and whimper. She dragged her hands up over Narcissa's body and one landed her other nipple the one left exposed to the air, Hermione gave it a gentle pinch. Then she lavished attention more attention on that nipple, teasing and biting, while her hands roamed over Narcissa's body. Narcissa started to move her hips, praying for the release of ache built up between her legs. Hermione was being a torment, teasing her nipples and nipping at her collarbone until Narcissa pleaded for release. She pulled back from Narcissa and looked her dead in the eyes once more, capturing her mouth as she pinched both of Narcissa's nipples. Narcissa was so close to the edge, her face flushed with arousal and eyes filled with unadulterated lust. Still playing with Narcissa's nipples, Hermione gradually lowered herself down her body. Narcissa began to arch her back, thrusting her hips towards Hermione.

Hermione now crouched on the floor began to trail kisses up and down Narcissa's legs. Still playing close attention to her nipples because that how she maintain her arousal. Narcissa whimpered, panted and pleaded at the sensation of the kisses Hermione was placing on the inside of her thighs and the hands tormenting her breasts were driving her insane. Hermione mad her way towards the apex of Narcissa's thighs and Narcissa placed her hands over Hermione's breasts to pinch and flick them. Hermione release a guttural moan but swiftly returned her attention to between Narcissa's legs. Hermione trailed her hands up Narcissa's legs and her fingers curled round the top of her knickers and began to slowly trail them down her body, finding the sensitive spot behind Narcissa's knee as she did. Hermione leaned in and swiped her tongue through Narcissa. This only cause an increase in the vigour Narcissa used to tease Hermione's nipples. Hermione's eyes and fingers explored her and then her tongue and fingers followed, and she had yet to break eye contact with the woman. Narcissa felt so exposed, but so turned on and so very loved. Hermione closed the space between them and sucked and licked and nipped, she was driving her insane. When Hermione finally introduced her fingers, it nearly tipped Narcissa over the edge but Hermione warned her, "not yet, sweetheart." Narcissa groaned she surely could not expect her to control herself; she was trembling, sweating and panting, so close she thought she was going to pass out. Hermione had entered her at an agonisingly slow pace but it merely increased Narcissa's need without tipping over the edge.

The paced quickened, in and out, more and more, drawing Narcissa higher and higher. When she felt like she was on the verve of exploding Hermione looked up at her, into her eyes and said, "God, I love you, I am never going to leave you." Hermione quickly turned her attention back to the task at hand; she lowered her face but never broke eye contact as she teased Narcissa's clit. Then she added another finger and twisted it in just the right manner to finally send the woman of the edge. It was bliss; Narcissa had lost all semblance of reality as she her body trembled vigorously with pleasure. When she came back to reality she found Hermione lying on the bed beside her, holding her so tightly. Her eyes said it all, they were full of love and adoration, Narcissa placed a soft kiss on the younger woman's forehead. She had never believed in something more that she had in that moment. She believed she had found her matching heart and tears streamed down her face. "I love you too." She whispered softly.

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**Please review I love feedback it helps me fix things lol! :) xx**


	5. Chapter 5

_**So long time no update, bad fanfiction writer! I am sorry about the ridiculous wait, guess I lost heart in it a little bit but I am back and ready to write. So if anyone it still interested in this story enjoy and feel to review!**_

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Months passed the two women barely noticed the time go by, they were so preoccupied they didn't even notice autumn go out like a lamb and the bitter winter come in like a lion. It was December now and it only grew darker and sicker, as huddled student with colds staggered from lesson to lesson dreading the Christmas exams. The library was florescently filled with busy notebooks and runny noses. Friendships were consolidated in the crisis mentality of the coming end: end of their first term, end of this grand new beginning. Hermione shared exam worries with Ginny in the three broomsticks; ate breakfast with Luna most mornings.

She even visited Honeydukes with Draco for Ice cream a few nights. Normally Draco was much too cool for Hogsmeade, he spent most of his night lost in time with his adoring wife, who was just about ready to pop. Over one or two sweet scattered scoops Draco had said the same thing to Hermione that others had said recently: I hardly see you around any more. Where have you been hiding? And: You look good – different, somehow. Have you changed your hair? Draco who had the most immediate reason to have paid attention, seemed not to understand that the change was not just simply seasonal, that there might be a specific person behind Hermiones new shape and movement. He had caught them in many almost intimate moments several times. He was a good guy though and what he suspected he didn't say.

"Take care of yourself, Granger." he concluded as her scraped scraped rubbery almond pellets from the bottom of the Styrofoam dish. "Don't burn the candle at both ends. They say it diminishes performance." She eyed him, licking fruits of the forest from a plastic spoon, wondering if he had meant the innuendo. He probably did. "Thanks for the tip." She answered.

There was, inevitably, a crushing stress that drew closer, the inexorable iceberg, along with the beckoning Christmas break and it's promise of freedom. She felt stress. Of course she did. But she was protected from it, too. Wrapped in the arms of her girlfriend – hers – Hermione was fundamentally untouchable, even by exams and papers and the gruelling needlepoint of footnotes. Whatever letters might collect on her transcript from this last series of assessments, she was not going to panic for once. After all, such grades were nothing – invisable ink – next to the permanent imprint she'd wear on her skin from this passion. What marks could matter more than love's tattoo?

As for the two of them, they had early-winter pleasures to enjoy. Late dawns and early dusks, the sweet taste of smoky kisses when the air outside is iced and salty; the joke of the fifteen minute striptease, when coats and scarves and sweaters and all have to be shed on a warm floor bound bundle before flesh can finally meet flesh. Close embraces on late streets, in a lamplight two female figures (one older, one younger) had to hope would not expose them to unfriendly attention. Day or night walks through ice-petrified wonderlands, against the ever-present kitsch of carols. Falalalalaing to each other slyly, in the tinsel-glittered rooms of restaurant or the naked seclusion of their London apartment a safe distance from Hogwarts eyes, when Minerva permitted them to leave the odd time.

Then break was on them. Hermione packed for the reverse journey in the train to the Weasley's, as Molly would not hear of her spending Christmas alone while her parents where in Melbourne for the holidays. And she still wasn't ready to divulge the real reason she wanted to be alone. The holiday passed quickly but it didn't stop Hermione feeling lost.

Hermione never considered that the word "ache" might be meant literally, when applied to the heart. "Heartache" was fancy, surely, a gift for songwriters and a handy rhyme for "heartbreak." They weren't serious? But no they were. It was something else to learn. The heart did ache actually. She felt a dull grind of lack somewhere near her diaphragm, a pain that occupied the space of something removed. A phantom limb. A scratchy hunger. The waiting muscle fatigue of want. Thankfully it wasn't long till the holidays were coming to an end and she was able to bid the Weasley's adieu!

And a few days later she did just that, she met Narcissa in a small pub near the apartment. Hermione chose her outfit carefully. An elegant, sea-coloured jacket, cut straight and short in a way that complimented her slender height, straight levi's, and a chic new pair of boots, her mother's Christmas present to her, which might now put Hermione's feet on the map. Narcissa was already there, waiting in a booth. The two greeted each other uncertainly in the familiar dim interior; not as friends, but not, after short separation and in the public setting of the bar, as lovers. Not yet, anyway. They ordered drinks and sat at the table, unsure how to reacquaint themselves. Hermione couldn't help the glow that set into her cheeks, as she watched the woman she had fallen in love with, light up telling her of wonderful Christmas with Draco and Astoria.

The years coldest days were the hottest she had ever lived. They summered inside the apartment with the heat turned up high lounging on the bed as if poolside, sometimes sipping tall, ice lemonades for a joke. Heat was their one, main, luxury: they choose it it over dinners out and fancy gifts, or weekend excursions to exotic places. They picked summering in winter as their treat.

Dress code was casual and scant: sleeveless T-shirts and brief white underwear; a blue, long sleeved man shirt and nothing else, spaghetti strapped tops, on Narcissa and calf-length leggings. Hermione legs were often free of covering, and she got used to seeing their lean pale shapes stretched out under the admirations of Narcissa's moving hands. "A match made in heaven." she would whisper and purring Narcissa would agree. Outside, it snowed. And slushed. And froze again; and blackened; and the treacherous streets caused hurriers to slide, elderly to fall. Bare branches grew brittle and fractured in the cold snaps, while vicious icicles dangled. There were road accidents and chilblains. Cold sore-blistered lips and encrusted noses. Muffled heads and cloudy speeches, slow-starting cars and deep-racked cough of all the stages of bronchitis. Meanwhile, inside their hot retreat the two women swooned.

Each woman rejoicing in the others body, Narcissa luxuriated over Hermione's legs, running her hands along them as if along a burnished banister. Despite Narcissa's graciousness Hermione felt they both knew that Narcissa was the one whose dimensions were mysteriously divine. Hermione fit her arm around Narcissa's neat waist one afternoon, in the languid heat of the apartment and told her so. "You are so small and perfect." she said, "It's just that your perfect." She let her hands re-sculpt Anne's perfection for a soft minute before she heard the silence that met her remark. When she looked up, she found a surprising flutter of grief over Narcissa's face. "That," she said "Is almost exactly the opposite of what my mother use to say to me." "Why what did she say to you."

"That I was too small. Weak. Frail. She said I never lived up to my name or that of the Blacks. She said I was a disappointment, from my fine "defenceless" frame to my blonde hair. I didn't even look like a Black she would say. She didn't like me so much, my mother, hence the reason she married me off so soon. She thought if I had a strong enough husband they wouldn't notice how pathetic I was." Narcissa laughed. Or rather, made a sound that approximated laughter. "Her life would have been immeasurably better if she had never had me." Narcissa played gently with Hermione's hair as she told her the story, "Of course my life would have been immeasurably better if I had never known her." Hermione didn't move or breathe. She had never heard this before. Any of it; she had assumed all the Black girls where worshipped, that's the way it appeared to everyone else. "She used to pinch me and slap me, when she was annoyed with me she would slap my cheek – to wipe the smirk off." Narcissa chuckled slightly. "Truth is I preferred smirking to crying it bothered her more."

Hermione was cautious still. But she had to ask – she had to – "How could anyone hurt that face?" She fit her palm around Narcissa's smooth cheek, stroked the loved line of her lips. "That beautiful face. How could anyone?" For a second Narcissa's eyes were a different shade, they were clouded and dark. She tried to pull away from Hermione but she only held on tighter. So she turned her face away. She couldn't even look the younger witch in the eye. "You know what people are like," she said, in a voice gravelled by old battles. She turned herself away from Hermione's, her face untouchable. "They're cruel, and they will do anything." Hermione in a rather abrupt sprout of courage place her hands either side of Narcissa's face and slowly turned her head so their eyes would meet. "That's because some people don't see how precious things really are, they are to focused on themselves to notice the things that matter. And you are so precious and matter more to me than anything in this world. And I will never let anyone hurt you again. I Promise!"


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